


Typos

by Xero_Sky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Embarrassment, Everybody Lives, Fluff, M/M, Post Pitfall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 17:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xero_Sky/pseuds/Xero_Sky
Summary: Post Pitfall, Chuck Hansen and Raleigh Becket get into the same elevator.  Things go downhill from there, because of course they do.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For Strikersindanger on Tumblr, who asked for the prompt "damned auto-correct". Apparently I got confused? Either way, it seems appropriate... So here's some Chaleigh in an elevator!

Chuck wasn’t completely taken by surprise.  It was lunch time, after all.  This was the best lift to take from Ranger quarters down to the mess hall, and since the Beckets lived down the hall from him, it made perfect sense for Raleigh to slide in just before the door closed.  Raleigh standing right next to him wasn’t new either, since neither Becket seemed to have a functional sense of personal space.

Being pressed back against the lift wall and slowly kissed was _well_ into the shocking range, though.  One minute he was standing there awkwardly, trying desperately to ignore Raleigh’s existence, and the next his back was against the wall and six feet of warm Becket was up against him, and…

It wasn’t his fault that he was a trained fighter.

Raleigh had fucking startled him.

“What the _hell_ , Hansen??” Raleigh managed, his voice muffled underneath the hand he was clutched at his mouth and nose.  Chuck hadn’t been able to pull back far enough for a punch, but he’d definitely gotten his elbow into the bloke’s face.

“What the hell are you doing kissing me, you arsehole?!”

“Because last night—“ Raleigh cut off his sentence, feeling at his nose and mouth.  A red blotch that would probably bruise pretty spectacularly was already darkening under one eye.

Chuck felt at little sick at those words, because he didn’t really remember a whole lot of last night, thank you very much.  It’d been… somebody’s birthday, right?  Most of the Rangers and a shitload of Dome staff had gone on the pub crawl from Hell, and he’d been fairly fucking hammered.  At some point Security had gotten them back, but he drew a complete blank on both that and why his shirt was missing when he woke up.  He also didn’t remember seeing Raleigh last night.  But what if he had?  What could he possibly have done?

Raleigh saw fit to strip away all the suspense in one go. 

“Last night,” he started again, glaring balefully at Chuck, “you told me you loved me.”

That was--  Oh, Christ, that wasn’t even possible.  Please not.

“I didn’t even see-“ he started, his mouth jumping right into the fray without his brain.

“You texted me,” Raleigh informed him.

“I…” _Shite._ “It must have been a typo.”

“Uh-huh.”

Raleigh seemed less angry now, but more like he wasn’t even close to buying what Chuck was selling.

“I was drunk, mate.  You know… Those tiny little buttons?” The blush working its way down from his face to his neck was probably going to be fatal.  Could a man die from embarrassment?  He might not be a proper ginger, but, if anyone could do it, a ginger could.

Because he wasn’t ready to admit to anything concerning Raleigh fucking Becket.  He wouldn’t even concede to liking him much, and those annoying-ass smirks that his Dad and Mako and Tendo and the alternate Becket got when he talked about him didn’t mean a goddamned thing.  Nothing.  At all.

Raleigh pulled his phone out of his back pocket and Chuck nearly cringed.

“You said, and I quote:  _Where are you?  Wish I knew.  Wish I had the courage to tell you how much I love you, how much it fucking kills me that I can miss you so much, and you’re right fucking there.  Sorry?”_   He flipped the phone around and held it in front of Chuck’s face.

There it was, with a querulous _Rals?_ right in front of it.

Rals.  Since when did he call him Rals?

Since when was he _in love_ with him?

Oh. God.

 _Since he told you to go fuck yourself that day in physical therapy when you were being an arse. Since the next day when you were feeling like shit and he got you on your feet again, and the next day, and the one after that.  Since you had that dream, and the next morning he smiled at you like he knew what had been in your head just a few hours before.  Yeah, right about then._   The deeply unhelpful voice in his head was almost gleeful about reminding him.

He was so fucking hopeless.

 “So, which word was the typo, Chaaaaaarlie?” Raleigh asked, tipping his head to one side, eyes really blue.  Annoyingly blue.

“…I was drunk,” Chuck’s mouth said, perverse as always. 

Raleigh nodded slowly.  “You spelled ‘courage’ right, but typo’ed ‘love’?”

Chuck was fairly certain that he was gonna die.  He was going to burst into flames right there in the lift.  His dad would be sad.  Max would be sad.  He was going to go down in history as the first human victim of complete mortification.

He felt his lips part, and knew something stupidly aggressive was going to come out, something that would destroy whatever this moment was. 

In his wisdom, Raleigh silenced him with another kiss.  This one was more tentative and more kind, and Chuck sort of melted into it, to his own surprise.  These weren’t hot, predatory kisses, the kind that were understood to lead right into sex.  These were slow and comfortable, sweet and inquisitive, and they were everything he had hoped for. 

When they broke apart, Raleigh was smiling softly. 

“Come to think of it, I kind of like you too.”

“Kind of?  That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Must’ve been a typo.”

They scowled at each other but couldn’t hold it, and Raleigh sort of got comfortable against him, if you could do that against a wall, and it worked pretty damned well, actually.  Chuck felt a little lightheaded, maybe, from relief or disbelief or the amount of blood not reaching his brain at the moment.  He kissed him again like it was the only hope of a cure, and Raleigh, Jesus, Raleigh was 100% on board with this plan, warm, curious hands and all.

So the slide of the elevator door escaped them, and the wordless stare of the people standing outside it as they reached their destination.

“For fucks sake,” Herc grumbled after several more moments of obliviousness.  Leaning in, he reached around and slapped at the control panel. “Don’t come back down until you’ve pried yourselves apart.”

“You know they didn’t hear a word of that,” Yancy commented as the doors slid shut again and the elevator went back up.

“I sent them to every floor between here and the roof.  Maybe they’ll clue in when the thing keeps stopping.”

“Or, they could die of starvation.”

“That too.  Better than watching them pine over each other and complain about it for another year.”

Yancy grinned.  Commiseration over how annoying their co-pilots were being was what had brought him and Herc together in the first place.  “Worked out pretty good for us, though.”

“Yeah, I reckon it did,” Herc agreed, and gave his boyfriend a quick kiss before calling the other lift.

*******

As it turned out, Raleigh and Chuck noticed that something was wrong about four floors up, but by then neither of them was hungry for anything the kitchen staff had to give them.


End file.
